Drama, Drama, Drama!
by end1essly
Summary: Welcome to the world of Gossip Girl, Harry Potter style! Often obscured by sex, lies, intrigue and alcohol, follow the lives of Hogwarts’ elite! A silly fanfic so that I don’t get overwhelmed by my angst stories. DEFINITE AU. HG/DM, HP/GW and GW/BZ
1. Some Girls are Bigger than Others

**Disclaimer: Characters and some plotline belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling, the writers for T.V.'s Gossip Girl: Josh Schwartz & Stephanie Savage, plus Cecily von Ziegesar. What does this mean? I own NOTHING! This is just me playing around with stuff :) Haha, it's not original whatsoever…DEFINITE AU…I'm warning you!**

**p.s. I am completely hopeless when it comes to shopping and fashion, so you're going to have to bear with me when it comes to outfits, lol.**

Chapter 1: Some Girls are Bigger than Others

Ginny Weasley glanced at her reflection for the fifth time in the mirror, smirking slightly at the way her afternoon dress hugged her curves like a second skin. There was no doubt about it: Ginny was a force to be reckoned with, not only by her sharp, often cruel, wit, but the way she made wearing a Valentino look as easy as wearing pajamas. Little Miss Weasley was _born_ for haute couture. Scratch that, haute couture was born for _Ginny Weasley. _Because this was just a little get-together to celebrate the coming of a new school year, Queen G didn't cause too much drama with her outfit, an amethyst-hued shirtdress with ruffles that gave her a sweet but sophisticated air; announcing to the world that despite her young age, she would be ruling Hogwarts for yet another dramatic term.

She suddenly felt warmth in her pocket, and pulled out the compact mirror that was enchanted to carry and receive messages; She and Hermione had figured out the charm back when they were mere third years. New Message from Lav!

_Oh Merlin! Justin Finch-Fletchety walked by with the most NAST skinny pink tie! That was sooooooo last season!_

Ginny sighed and replaced the hand mirror, running a hand over her locks as if to smooth down any wayward locks in her already perfect coiffure. It was true; some of the boys at Hogwarts had as much fashion sense as Professor Snape. But not her darling Harry, steady boyfriend for the last two wonderful years of her life, who arrived at every function graceful and composed, wearing those close-fitting suits of his that made her want to snog him senseless, and even more…But then again, they hadn't done THAT yet, even though she desperately hoped Harry would come to his senses and realize that he had Ginny Weasley, _Ginny Weasley_ as a girlfriend! Ginny Weasley, the youngest daughter of Arthur and Margaret Weasley, owners of the high fashion line _W_, with all six of her older brothers rich and incredibly successful? Not to mention she loved Harry, which oh, did she so very much! All of the flings she'd had throughout her school days had been with young men with pretty faces, but it was only Harry who cared for her, supported her, and charmed her picky and often cold parentals. Not to mention that Harry himself was the heir to the Potter Pensieve fortune: His family's products were used worldwide, meaning that Harry got thousands of Galleons in pocket money, which he lavished on his adoring girlfriend...

Speaking of Harry…Ginny glided back into the parlor, in hot pursuit of her most delicious beau. She passed by various guests of her mothers like Mr. & Mrs. Greengrass and Mr. & Mrs. Nott, before she found her best friends Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, attached at the hip as always, sporting identical red cocktail dresses.

"GINNY!!!!" they squealed simultaneously. "Have I told you already that you look PERFECT, PERFECT, in that color?!" piped up Parvati, only to be added on by Lavender, "Everyone wishes they were you, Ginny…You have the most BEAUTIFUL hair! I wish mine would do something other than just _sit there_." Her expression turned glum, but Ginny's attention was already elsewhere, for a familiar chestnut head was coming in her direction, attached to a very stylishly attired torso.

"Hey Gin," Harry said gently, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek and wrapping an arm around her tiny waist, "Where did you run off to?"

"Oh, you know," Ginny replied nonchalantly, batting her eyelashes, "Had to go freshen up. You wouldn't want me to look like a train wreck, would you?" Lavender and Parvati let out identical laughs at this joke.

"Oh, as if you could ever look anything but perfect," Harry said, smiling, his emerald green eyes sparkling as if Ginny was the only one who could make him happy.

Ginny was struck by a sudden urge. A sudden primal urge, that involved tearing Harry's crisp oxford shirt off his chest, kissing his light stubble, having him touch her in places where they had yet to venture in the privacy of his room…

"Come with me," Ginny commanded in a low voice, wrenching Harry's hand in her grasp and making a beeline for the hallway, where there was an unused sitting room just begging for a use. They merely made it to their destination too, if it weren't for the on/off bane of Ginny's existence…

"Ginny, darling, come meet my new assistant, Penelope— Oh Harry, you are growing taller every time I see you!" Margaret Weasley, dressed in a smart silk blouse and pencil skirt, was ever the charming, accessible fashion designer. At least to the public. Ginny tried her hardest not to groan as Harry politely responded to her mother's comment, despite his girlfriend's death squeeze to his hand.

"That's just fabulous, Mother, I'm sure we can do catching up in a minute. But there's something I DESPERATELY need to show Harry right now!" Without further adieu, Ginny wisked Harry away, her pumps making a distinctive clicking noise on the polished hardwood floors. Once inside the sitting room, Ginny impatiently slammed the door closed and quite literally, jumped Harry's bones, her slender nylon-incased legs encircling his waist.

"Whooooa, Gin!" Harry exclaimed, shifting backward both from shock and supporting the sudden weight thrust upon his person. "What's going on?— " His voice was muffled by Ginny's lips claiming his own, arms winding around his neck and fingers nestling in his thick brown hair. She kissed him desperately, needing to feel some attention, some recognition that the perfect persona she spent so much time to create and present was worth it. It soon escalated into a passion necking session, Harry's light blue tie discarded on the carpet, Ginny's leg dangling carelessly off the couch as Harry kissed her into oblivion.

Both Harry's scarlet Galleon and Ginny's mirror heated up simultaneously, but obviously they were somewhat too occupied to notice, as the amount of bare skin increased exponentially. However, gossip mavens Lavender and Parvati, waiting patiently outside for Ginny's re-entrance into the Weasley parlor, swooped upon their identical sparkly pocket mirrors for the latest gab.

_What's this? Little Miss Perfect breaks her mysterious year-long disappearance and is back in London? Something tells me Queen G won't take the reemergence of her best friend H so lightly…_

_XOXO,  
Gossip Witch_

Needless to say, Parvati and Lavender started at one another in shock. Hermione Granger was back in London? She'd packed up and left a year ago, for Estonia or Australia or…something. Without Hermione, the Dynamic Duo had been reduced to a one-man show, with Ginny dictating Hogwarts' fashion and relationship circuit with an iron fist. As Ginny's closest confidantes, Parvati and Lavender knew that Ginny had enjoyed the power, having previously acted as Hermione's less fashionable sidekick. This was big, BIG news…

"GINNNNNNNNY!" came Lavender's squeal from outside the door, causing Ginny's enraptured expression to morph into irritation in seconds. Harry was busy making his mark on her neck, while she played with the soft hairs that were rightfully named Harry's "happy trail". "Ginny, please let us in! The craziest thing just came on Gossip Witch!" Parvati pleaded, "HERMIONE'S BACK!"

Ginny had been content thus far to ignore the incessant speech of her friends as Harry's lips caressed her own, but at the mention of Hermione's name, she tore herself from Harry with lightning speed. Hermione Granger, Ginny's best friend/nemesis was finally back from that boarding school in France?!

_Why nowwwww?_ Ginny whined internally, _Just when everything was going so well for meeeee!_

Harry too had jolted to his feet, and was now busy re-dressing while Ginny lay dazed on the elegant sitting-room sofa. "I can't believe Hermione's back!" Harry exclaimed excitedly, "I can't wait to see her, right Gin?"

Ginny resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but Harry's beaming adorable face was just too heartbreaking to destroy. It was quite irritating that Harry and Hermione had been best friends for years. While Hermione had completely cut off contact with most of her friends, she and Harry had stayed close, owling one another occasionally. Of course Harry would be excited to see her again…

"Just fabulous", Ginny replied with extra sweetness, to cover up the less-than-happy thoughts running through her head at present, "We'll have to make sure she comes and says hello!" She straightened her dress, and then proceeded to put her stockings back on while Harry began murmuring excitedly.

"Things just aren't the same without Hermione around," Harry said wistfully, fluffing his hair and patiently waiting for Ginny by the sitting room door.

"That's for sure," Ginny said under her breath bitterly, preparing to face the world that was already beginning to crumble at her feet.

* * *

It had been a very, very long day. Hermione collected her valises at the baggage claim and went for a stroll through the airport, seeing as her father wouldn't be able to send the car for another fifteen minutes. The plane flight itself had only been an hour, but the car ride from Marseille to Paris had been quite tiring. Hermione appreciated the muggle way of travel, but there were times that she wished she were of age so she could simply apparate home. Despite her exhaustion, Hermione was as always perfectly arranged, her chocolate brown curls neatly cascading down her back. She wore a comfortable yet fashionable traveling outfit consisting of Fred Segal jeans and a rouched blouse with the smallest mauve stripes. Grabbing her silver mirror out of her jacket pocket, Hermione was disappointed to see that Neville hadn't messaged her at all.

It was mostly because of Neville, her darling younger brother, that Hermione had bothered to return from her hideaway in Marseille. French girls were certainly wild, but she hadn't gotten in such painful situations as she had back at Hogwarts and the bustling metropolis of London. Until Neville had his accident…

Hermione swallowed that painful thought and stepped outside, just as the Granger family's familiar navy blue Mercedes pulled up to the sidewalk. Why her father couldn't invest in a less flashy car to tote the three of them around was beyond Hermione's understanding. She would have preferred a Mini; It was easier to park, anyhow. But _noooo_, Sirius always insisted on having the best of everything. Hermione understood his point, to a degree. After all, her father had built his fortune entirely by himself, first as a high-ranked Auror and then becoming the Head of the entire Auror department, which was paid handsomely for their dangerous line of work. He simply wanted to show that he could compete with the families that received their money through inheritance, which was the case for many of Hermione and Neville's friends.

Not that money had solved everything: Hermione's mother Rosetta had died soon after Neville was born, leaving Sirius to take care of two young children. And now Neville had fallen from the balcony of their penthouse on the fifth floor. At least, Sirius had insisted that Neville had fallen, but some of the letters her dear Neville had sent over the last few months had sounded more and more melancholy, and Hermione had suggested he try therapy. But could the sweet, gentle fourteen-year-old boy actually have tried to take his own life? The thought was quite unsettling, and all Hermione wanted to do was take her baby brother in her arms, and hug all the bad feelings away.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that the car's stop in front of her building was quite startling. Hermione absentmindedly threw open the door as Stan the driver went around the car to collect her things from the trunk. Such a sudden action, however, resulted in a very unexpected result. The door hit a young man walking on the sidewalk, causing him to fall to the concrete with a groan.

"Dear Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed, frightened, and scrambled out of the car to see if she had honestly just accidentally murdered someone.

The boy got up and brushed off the back of his jeans and rubbed the back of his head, his back to Hermione.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking and I just opened the door like a loony," Hermione apologized in a long babble, "Do you think you have any serious injuries?!?"

The face that spun around to greet her was grinning, causing Hermione's mouth to fall open, and his mouth soon matched hers. The boy looked slightly familiar, as if she'd seen him around Hogwarts but couldn't put a name to face. His pale blond hair fell in his eyes and was slightly mussed; his facial features angular porcelain.

_He's actually kinda cute, _Hermione giggled to herself, _But that's probably not something you're supposed to be thinking about when you might have mortally injured someone!_

The boy smiled awkwardly, then drawled, "Oh, don't worry about it, I'm not in too much pain! Your ego probably has a bigger bruise than my head!"

Hermione laughed, her apprehension evaporating in his laidback presence. "I'm—"

"—Hermione Granger," the boy interrupted with a smile, "I've seen you around Hogwarts. It'd be hard not to! My name's Draco Malfoy, and I'm glad to make your acquaintance, hopefully in different circumstances next time!"

Hermione laughed again as she shook his outstretched hand, "My, aren't you funny? Excited for school? Only the weekend left!"

"Oh, am I ever," Draco replied, "Sixth year, it's a big one! The Ministry starts scouting, pretty wicked!"

Hermione was about to respond but was interrupted by the sound of her father's voice booming from the building's front entrance.

"Hermione! I was wondering when you'd finally be in! I just finished flooing St— Why, hello there!"

Hermione sighed as her father approached, for his commanding presence tended to have a negative effect on all the boys she'd ever talked to. Rather tall, with thick black hair and piercing blue eyes, Sirius Granger managed to intimidate Dark Wizards and adolescent males alike. Draco took Sirius's entrance rather well, his smile faltering slightly.

"Hello father!" Hermione said brightly, embracing her beloved parent, "This is Draco Malfoy, a classmate of mine, who I accidentally hit with the Mercedes' door!"

Sirius merely rolled his eyes and nudged Draco's shoulder in a friendly manner, "Believe me, it's not the first time she's done something that ridiculous. Nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy, I'm Sirius Granger, Hermione's father." The two made their introductions, and then Sirius turned his attention back to Hermione, an expectant look on his face.

"Oh, well then!" Hermione chirped, a tad too loudly, "I'm just going to bring my stuff in! I guess I'll see you at school then, Draco?"

Draco gave her a nod and a wave, picked up his messenger bag and headed down the street in the direction he had originally intended.

"Well done 'Mione!" her father exclaimed once the young man was out of earshot, "This one actually seems polite! Unlike the rest of those hooligans you bring around to dinner!"

Hermione shook her head at her father, but blushed secretly when she turned to grab her purse out of the Mercedes. "Oh father, you exaggerate…I barely know him! Besides, there's more important things to worry about!"

She placed a hand on her hip, a movement that was altogether oddly flattering, "How is Neville?"


	2. She Smiled Sweetly

**Disclaimer: As stated before, I own nothing.**

**Author's Note: I know that some of you are in a tizzy about who I chose as certain characters, but honestly, I'm taking this whole thing lightheartedly, as a bit of an experiment. Like, if Ginny were Blair, how would she act? And how would Draco see things through Dan's eyes, and etc? Like I said, I'm not serious, I'm just playing around with this concept, so any comments, good or constructive, are welcomed:) Thanks for taking the time to read, regardless!**

Chapter 2: She Smiled Sweetly

Pansy peered critically at the clothes that were hanging in her closet, all carefully arranged by color and type. Here she was, invited to her first semi-upscale event, and she had absolutely nothing to wear! The young woman let out an irritated shriek, flopping back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the enchanted stars rotate slowly. It was so frustrating going to Hogwarts, where all the girls had the most lavish designs from Milan to Tokyo, while it was considered a good day if Pansy found something funky and retro at Buffalo Exchange.

There was a soft knock on her bedroom door, followed by the head of her eternally graceful and composed mother hovering in the air. Narcissa was sporting authoritative spectacles on her delicate features, meaning that Pansy's outburst had most likely interrupted her work on another story for tomorrow's edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Pansy, love, is something wrong?" her mother asked, voice sounding cool and calm even when slightly irked.

The youngest Malfoy sat up, raking a hand through her straight black hair, nose wrinkled with a matching frown.

"Oh, it's nothing…just, Mandy Brocklehurst invited me to go boating at Regents Park, and I feel like all of my outfits are so…drab!"

Narcissa's expression softened somewhat, and she began to pull various articles out of the organized mass. "What about this blouse? It always was quite fetching on you…And I haven't seen these trousers in ages! You loved them last fall—"

Pansy sighed and joined her mother in passive defeat, knowing that any advice suggested would be good as nothing. She dearly loved the quiet and dignified woman who gave birth to her, the one who tried her best to give her children the same opportunities as their fellows, but Narcissa's bohemian-laced attire was a far cry from the tight and slinky frocks that ruled the current runways. Pansy, with her slender petite frame, would look like a messy fairy draped in all that linen and gauze…

"Oh Mum, thanks for the help, I'm sure I'll be able to find something," Pansy interrupted frantically, a tinge of pink beginning to form high on her cheekbones, "Have you heard from Father at all?"

Narcissa dropped her hands at the unpleasant change of subject, hands uncomfortably finding solace in her platinum locks loosely coiled in a bun, kept in place with a spare quill.

"Well…not quite. He did transfer some money to help repair Draco's typewriter. I don't understand why he insists on using that thing, it's so inefficient and time-consuming, I don't see how he can get any work done at all…" She walked back into the hall, voice trailing as her brain became obviously occupied elsewhere.

Pansy smiled an impish grin, though it quickly turned sour. While the topic of her parents' failing marriage was an instant way to get Narcissa out of her business, it was certainly unpleasant to think about. Her father Lucius, who wrote for a scholarly magazine called _New Theories in Magical Thought_ and dabbled in magical composing, was currently on an "extended sabbatical" in Sri Lanka researching the effects of the Ramora on the local fishing population. Draco suspected that he had met an exotic ladyfriend while on his travels, and Pansy found it hard not to agree. Which was strange, because she and Draco rarely saw eye to eye. Speaking of Grindelwald…

Draco's tall and slender frame sashayed dazedly past her room, nearly running into the wall, causing Pansy to stick her head out quizzically.

"Oi, Dray, what's got your knickers in a knot?"

Draco spun around, a goofy smile plastered across his visage, his dreamy demeanor swept away only by his little sister's expert poke to his ribs.

"Blimey, Pans! Oh, it's nothing…just had a wonderful day, 's all."

Pansy's eyes gleamed wickedly, raising her hand to show the little mirror encased in her palm.

"Oh, so you didn't hear the news from Gossip Witch that a certain _Hermione Granger_ is coming back for this term? You've only been wanting to shag her since you were in nappies!"

A deep growl emitted from Draco's throat as he scratched his v-necked jumper nervously, an effect that made him look like a little boy caught with his fingers in the Nutella.

"Oh, don't you start…I'm in no mood for your pestering!" He swept from her abode, slamming his own door shut, knocking loudly on the wall in retaliation.

"But I thought you were having a glorious day!" Pansy mocked, her lip curled in a trademark smirk, fingering the green edging of a dress in her closet. It was almost _too easy._

_Pansy: 9,997, Draco: -5_

* * *

One dark gray suit, the finest Wizarding money could buy. Check. Perfectly crisp black oxford, light grey tie, black dragon hide boots polished to the point of obsession. Check. Soft brown-black hair playfully tousled, alluring cologne doused, straight white teeth the optimum of freshness. Needless to say, Blaise Zabini looked nothing short of _bloody gorgeous_, and he knew it very, very well. To some, the seduction of the opposite sex was a chase, a game played for mere amusement, but Blaise knew that dating was an absolute art form when performed correctly, a practice that led to a long and healthy list of tumbles in the sack. He prided himself in having deflowered girls in every house, with no messy attachments that made things ever-so-complicated the next morning. Bother!

_I honestly don't know how Harry has survived! _Blaise thought to himself as he waited in the elevator, gliding up to Ginny's flat on the seventh floor. _Ginny is an absolute minx…I would have found my way into her knickers the first week!_

His cocky smirk turned into naughty whistling as he strutted into the foyer of the Weasley penthouse, women young and old raising an appreciative eyebrow in his direction. Blaise surveyed the available merchandise in a manner quite unlike a normal sixteen-year-old before strolling over to his favourite group of London socialites. His best mate Harry was attached to his seductress ball-and-chain, while the unexpected luscious form of Hermione Granger stood nearby, looking around slightly nervously.

"My my, Granger…don't we look…_delicious,_" Blaise drolled, his fingertips _accidentally _grazing the cheek of her spectacular arse, causing two ostracized glares and one stifled chuckle to be focused in his direction.

"Merlin, you are a cheeky bugger!" Harry laughed heartily, giving the newcomer a friendly pat on the back, "How was Rome? Get in touch with your roots?"

"It was refreshing," Blaise replied lazily, his attention focusing on the vivacious redhead at Harry's side, "Ginny darling, that lavender color does wonders for your complexion…"

Ginny shot him a look seething with rage, and stuck out her tongue in an immature fashion. One of Blaise's favorite extracurricular activities was to torment the girl, both intellectually and sexually, of course. He couldn't help it that he was attracted to her fantastic body, could he? Even if she had Harry house-elfed to the point that he lost his Gryffindor dignity, it didn't change the fact that the Italian boy would jump her if the circumstances were right.

_Granger too would be a worthwhile conquest, if she could get the iron poker out of her derrière, _Blaise concurred, giving the brunette a lascivious once-over that made Hermione want to take a long, hot shower to get the grime off.

"So…Marseille…" Blaise posed to Hermione, eyebrow cocked and arms raised to the sides.

"Yes, I'm back for good. Nev's…sick, and I figured I should be home at least for his sake. Plus, I missed my friends' company!"

Her reply was strained and full of superfluous cheer; The three that comprised her audience could easily see through her defenses, but let Hermione hold onto her illusions for a short while longer. It was a London society rule not to press when the conversation was concerning personal troubles, unless directly confided to. Seeing as these sorts of functions were tedious enough that the only way to enjoy them was while utterly shitfaced, Blaise secretively produced a flask from inside his jacket for this particular purpose. He took a hearty swig, and Ginny's sneer, already at the intensity of complete loathing, slipped down a couple notches.

"Listen, I better go," Hermione suddenly blurted, gripping her handbag tightly, "I'll see you all on the Hogwarts Express, yes? I'll owl later, Gin." She exited the apartment, distracted and flustered, eyes glazed over and blouse fanning slightly in the breeze that she produced.

This left the remaining three to stare at one another awkwardly, until Blaise's trademark smirk found its familiar home on his flawless features. "So, Gin, you think ol' Margaret would be up for some Strip Exploding Snap?"

* * *

Draco exited the lavatory, having exchanged his normal attire for the standard school robes, and headed down the crowded corridor toward his compartment. Asteria looked up happily as he entered, one long red-gold braid falling across her shoulder as she peered to see what story Theo was ardently trying to show her. Draco settled on the beach across from them and stretched out his long legs, accidentally knocking Theo's shin, causing the magazine to fall to the floor in a fantastic heap.

"Ha, way to go, mate!" Theo joked, his sleepy blue eyes twinkling, one hand attempting to flatten down his unruly brown bedhead while simultaneously retrieving the magazine with the other.

"I didn't understand the bloody article anyhow!" Asteria shot back, smiling at Draco and nudging Theo in the side, "So I see you've made Prefect, Draco, that's just excellent!"

Draco blushed good-naturedly down at the shiny badge, pulling his beloved Moleskin from his pocket and jotting down some notes, "Ah well, I try to be amazing at everything…The meeting was bloody boring, though. Did you see Blaise Zabini made Prefect? Honestly, that git?!"

Theo rolled his eyes and Asteria giggled, leaning her head against the cool window, as the train swiftly passed endless evergreen trees. The three had been thick as thieves since their first year at Hogwarts School, having been placed in the same mandatory Ravenclaw study group. Asteria's mother Jeanette and Narcissa had been old school friends themselves, so it only seemed natural that the three would be famous around Hogwarts as "The Brainy Trio". Asteria was abnormally cheerful and considerate, serving as a mentor to many of the younger Ravenclaw girls, and had a knack for remembering dates and figures, resulting in a never-ending barrage of teasing from Draco and Theo on account of her internship with Professor Binns. Theo was a bit of a jokester and prankster, but made up for his lax attitude in school with an excellent aptitude in Charms. Draco's real love was Literature (although his crush on Hermione Granger came a close second), but was known throughout Ravenclaw House for being an excellent Ancient Runes translator, and unknowingly, his shy boyish good looks.

"What're you writin' there, Draco?" Theo inquired, twirling his wand in his fingers, pretending to practice a spell he found in _Standard Book of Spells, Year Six_.

"Not anything important," Draco responded, blushing at the attention drawn to such an activity, "I just got an idea for a story when I was in the loo."

Asteria and Theo exchanged _a look_, and then looked back at Draco with identical smug, satisfied expressions on their faces.

"You…didn't happen to see a certain girl recently, did you?" Asteria asked innocently, although her cocky expression claimed otherwise.

"Oh, shove off!" Draco growled, thrusting his notebook deep in the pocket of his robes and turning to gaze outside, where the enormous Hogwarts castle began to come into view.

Outside of the blond's line of sight, Asteria and Theo shared another meaningful look, and a few golden coins were passed from one pocket to the other.

* * *

Hermione sat in a silent compartment near the end of the train, chin balanced on one delicate palm, her eyes transfixed by the same sight of what would be her home the next nine months. Neville's head rested on her shoulder, his expression sweet from the slumber he'd been having the last hour and a half.

_My poor Neville,_ Hermione thought, stroking a wayward lock away from his face. The two siblings had the trademark Granger waves, but Hermione realized that other than their looks, the Granger children lived completely different lives, and that before tonight, she hadn't known what went on in the boy's head that was now so close to hers.

_Upon entering the train together, Hermione broke tradition. Usually the two split ways, Hermione joining her gang of Slytherin fashionistas near the end of the training, Neville sitting up with the lower-yeared Ravenclaws near the Prefect compartment._

"_Hey Nev?" Hermione asked quickly, for Neville had nearly begun his usual sojourn towards the front, "Do you think we could get a compartment? I never got to talk to you about this summer…"_

_Neville looked at her quietly and meaningfully, then nodded. It struck Hermione just how strange his compliant action was: Any Slytherin would be slightly distrustful, even of a family member, but Neville was cut of a different cloth, more trusting, but certainly not stupid._

_Hermione swept by her friends with an apologetic look, Ginny rolling her eyes and flipping her long red hair over her shoulder, flocking the girls into their usual lurking grounds._

_Once the two had found a private compartment, Hermione finally let loose on her darling brother._

"_Neville, what's wrong? I've missed you so, but…but…I had no idea…Neville, is it true that you tried to kill yourself?" Hermione could feel her eyes getting moist, something that happened rarely, despite her overly emotional personality._

_Neville looked hollow at her frank question, sinking into the cushion that lined the compartment, his head resting in his hands. Faintly, rather imperceptibly, Neville shook his head in the affirmative._

_Hermione threw a hand over her mouth, staring in shock at the window, the buildings of London undetectable by her overwhelmed senses. She spun around to face her brother again, sitting close to his small form._

"_Nev…" she began softly, but was cut off by his own voice, a low murmur that grew into wavering speech._

"_You know that I've always felt guilty that Mom died right after I was born. I know that Dad loves me deep down, but sometimes I can't help that he's angry, that he would take me back if it meant he could have Mom happy and healthy again, like I wasn't meant to be here._

_His head lifted up to look at Hermione, his expression indescribable._

"_And that's how I feel, 'Mione. Like I'm some kind of freak that's not meant to be here, someone who doesn't fit in, just stays behind the scenes and is meant not to be noticed. I've seen you and your friends: It's all about the money and the power and who Gossip Witch saw with who and…I'm just not like that._

_He let out a deep sigh._

"_I'm the first one in our family to ever be a Ravenclaw. My friends don't understand half of the things I say. Dad keeps his distance like he's afraid to talk to me lest I explode or say something bizarre. I just feel so lonely, Hermione, like I'm a freak who's just not meant to live in a life like this."_

_The tears Hermione had so far managed to keep in burst freely now, as she crushed her brother's slight frame to her own in a tight embrace._

"_Oh Neville, Neville, Neville…I'm so sorry. So sorry."_

_She rocked him back and forth and the two cried off and on for an hour, seeking comfort in the bond that only siblings share._

"_Neville, I love you so much. I know I'm not the best at showing it, and I've gotten so wrapped up in…stuff, but I'm going to be here for you now. Whenever. I promise. You need me, just say the word, and I'll drop everything."_

_Neville looked up at his sister's determined face, his own tear-streaked, and gave a ghost of a smile, his voice a whisper._

"_Thank you, Hermione. That truly means the world."_

She hugged him again and again before the younger boy succumbed to sleep, fraught with exhaustion. Hermione felt desperately guilty, because she knew that Neville's rash suicide attempt had been partly because of her own selfish actions. She had been so focused on the clothes and boys and popularity, and then getting away from her own fucked-up life, that she hadn't realized that Neville had desperately needed a friend, to the point where he was ready to end it all.

_This has truly been a year to remember,_ Hermione thought to herself, coming to a firm conclusion. _I'm going to take care of what's important, because it could be taken from me in an instant._

She reached down and stroked Neville's raven-black head, holding him to her close. The train came to a slow stop, and the signs of movement from her fellow students outside the compartment became visible. Neville stirred slightly, but continued on in his gentle sleep, Hermione smiling faintly. She saw a flash of blond out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see Draco Malfoy peering into the compartment window, hand up in a friendly hello.

He gently slid the compartment door open. "Hey, we've arrived. I'm a Prefect and have to make sure everyone's aware." He stooped down to view the sleeping Neville, his fellow Ravenclaw and therefore his special responsibility. "Is he—"

"He's fine," Hermione cut in softly, smiling reassuringly, "Just had a trying couple of days. He'll be just peachy when we get him to the feast."

Draco could tell that her comforting sentiment was most likely far from the truth, but nodded kindly, thoroughly impressed at how compassionate and _nice _Hermione Granger was in person, having dreamt of her endlessly from afar. "Oh, well," he responded, cheeks reddening slightly at the fact that he had overstayed his welcome, "I better go."

His heart nearly burst out of his chest when Hermione Granger smiled her radiant smile (at him of all people!) and friendly patted his hand.

"Thanks for checking in on him. I'll see you later?"

Draco nodded dreamily, exiting the compartment and rejoining his friends in satisfied and ecstatic silence. The whole journey up to the castle flew in a blur, Draco having not registered a single thing but the feel of Hermione Granger's hand on his.

* * *

Infinitely more exciting than Professor McGonagall's opening speech, another sort of announcement was made to the young populace of Hogwarts school upon entry to the Great Hall, one that was designed to upset and spark another endless year of unrelenting rumors.

_Boohoo! It seems that Baby N had a rather eventful summer, crying his eyes out on the Hogwarts Express! Perhaps we all should be glad he decided to join us all at Hogwarts this __**fall.**_

_You know you love me!_

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Witch_

* * *

**Some more intro work, we'll get more into the cattiness, sex, and lies coming next chapter! Thanks for reading!**


	3. I am trying to break your Heart

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story, merely parts of the plot. Alas. Sorry to get your hopes up and all… I quoted directly from Episode 1 of Gossip Girl, as well.**

Author's Note: Sorry for taking a while to post this, I've been focused on other things as of late. Thanks for your support:)

Chapter 3: I am trying to break your heart

Harry hopped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, dark brown hair plastered to his forehead, moisture clinging to his eyelashes. The titters of his fellow classmates bounced off the sturdy stone walls, the thickness of the steam concealing the identity of the occupant of each showerhead. Harry had just finished tying his scarlet and gold tie when he was startled by a hand clapping on his broad shoulder.

"Harry, mate!" exclaimed Ron Finnigan, Harry's best mate in Gryffindor House, "Did you enjoy your holiday in Bath?"

Harry gave his friend a small smile and fastened his belt closed, schoolbag slipping onto his shoulder. "It was great as always, clobbered Blaise in Quidditch, although his polo skills remain top-notch. Threw Ginny in the water a few times, wouldn't talk to me for a week!"

Ron chuckled in response and followed the brunet out of the dormitory and towards the Great Hall. "Aye, the lovely Ginny…How are things going with her?" The animated strawberry-blond added a barely perceptible raised eyebrow, his face graced with a knowing smile.

Harry rolled his eyes as the two sat down, breakfast magically appearing in front of their sparkling pewter plates, "A gentlemen never speaks of his extra-curricular affairs," he replied snootily, although the stifled grin on his face gave him away.

Ron chortled, "Blimey, it's never stopped you before!" Harry was about to respond with a witty comment, but the booming voice of a fellow Gryffindor made all conversation seem diminutive in comparison.

"Discussing the ladies, aye?" asked Seamus in his thick Scottish accent, sitting next to his twin brother, the two nearly identical save for the sprinkling of freckles across Ron's cheeks.

"Always have to make a scene, don't ya bro?" Ron replied, shaking his head at all the startled looks the trio were receiving, "But aye, the little misses are looking mighty fine! Have you seen the arse on baby Malfoy? I'd certainly enjoy having her tutor me in Care of Magical Creatures!"

The three boys laughed heartily, Harry's attention soon captured by the entrance of Ginny and her posse to the Slytherin table, dressed to the nines, as was the routine. The saucy redhead winked at him as she took her seat, mouthing, "I love you" with a sweet smile. Harry swallowed deeply, as his breakfast had threatened to make a second appearance.

_Thank God Ginny doesn't know what happened between Hermione and I…I wonder if Hermione thought of me while she was away?_

He found the graceful brunette chatting amiably with her brother at the Ravenclaw table, her usual curls tamed into falling silky and straight down her back. The joy on her face caused Harry to smile as well, bowing his head to drink more Pumpkin juice. It was their first day back, and his goal for the term would be to focus on school and get into London Wizarding Academy, just like his father wanted…Why did that sound utterly unsatisfying?

* * *

Later that afternoon, Pansy Malfoy skipped out of the Transfiguration classroom, her magicked curls bouncing merrily on her small shoulders, her pocket mirror in hand and a smile on her delicate face. Her friend Isadora Linden, a Gryffindor, had invited Pansy over after classes to view the plethora of frocks she'd acquired over the summer holidays. Upon reaching the Fat Lady portrait, Pansy's mind was so utterly focused on the sumptuous fabrics of the fall season that she ran, quite forcefully, into a girl exiting the portrait.

"So sorry!" she squealed as she brushed off her robes, her anxious look reverting to sheer horror once she realized the other girl was _Ginny Weasley_.

"How DARE YOU?!?" shrieked the redhead, who now was sporting unattractive brown stains all down the front of her ruby-red cardigan, "I was going to give this hot chocolate to my dear Harry, but now I'm wearing it, you little bitch!"

The smaller girl shrank back in fear, eyes wide open in shock and hands held up in front, as if to protect Ginny from physically striking her.

"You're going to have this cleaned, you little trollop," Ginny sneered, taking off the ruined sweater and thrusting it into Pansy's grasp, "Otherwise buy me a new one."

The tall redhead swept down the corridor, pausing a second to turn around and eye Pansy's outfit. "Those shoes were fashionable, maybe ten years ago? And your hair is hideous, you look like a poodle! Have a nice day, darling!" she shot in fake sweetness, all ninety-five pounds of her frail figure creating a commanding presence as she made her way down to the Dungeons.

Pansy burst into hysterical sobs, barely managing to give the password and climb the stairs to Isadora's dormitory. The blonde in question was sitting cross-legged on the bed when Pansy burst in, quickly putting down her Wizarding Fashion magazine.

"Pansy! What on earth happened, love?" Isadora asked frantically, green eyes full of complete surprise at the normally composed young woman.

"I made Ginny Weasley spill chocolate on her sweater!" Pansy managed to choke out, the tears creating miniscule mascara rivers down her delicate cheeks, "And it's utterly ruined! I can barely afford to buy schoolbooks, how can I buy a new designer sweater?!"

Isadora wrenched the cardigan from Pansy's distraught grasp, carefully glancing at the label. "Merlin, Pans…This is a forty Galleon sweater!"

"I knowwwww," Pansy replied mournfully, burying her face in the folds of Isadora's red coverlet, "I have no idea where I'm going to get the money…"

Isadora, being more sensible and less dramatic then her friend, set a gentle hand on Pansy's shoulder, "I can surely lend you twenty Galleons, it's what I have left over from my birthday. Perhaps you can write your mother and see if she'll help with the rest?"

Pansy's raven-tressed head rose slowly from the bed, curls flattened on one side and nose twitching from sniffling. "Oh Dora, you're the best friend a girl could ever have! Would you, really?"

The blonde drew into a big hug, Pansy's tears quickly turning to giggles. "Of course, Pans, anything for you! Now go and ask your mother, maybe she'll be more lenient if you're up front about it!"

Pansy squeezed her dearest friend extra tightly, and then leapt from Gryffindor Tower at top speed. Money had always been a sore subject in the Malfoy household, seeing as Narcissa made a pitiful salary by not contributing to the fluff that composed the _Daily Prophet_, and Lucius had "forgotten" to send funds in recent months. Pansy knew that her mother was saving up some Galleons to prepare Pansy's Yuletide Birthday party, perhaps she had a few to spare?

It seemed that Pansy was destined to have an awful day, for upon entrance to the Slytherin Common Room; she nearly collided with yet another student! This time it was Hermione Granger, her big brown eyes looking down on Pansy in surprise, diamond necklace glinting faintly in the soft firelight.

"Why hello there," Hermione said softly, varying drastically from her best friend in demeanor, "I'm afraid I was in such a hurry that I almost didn't see you!" Her eyes landed on the red object in Pansy's hands, which caused Pansy to look back at Hermione in horror of being discovered.

"Is that Ginny's sweater?" Hermione the younger girl asked rather kindly. Pansy nodded, still recovering from her shock that Hermione Granger wasn't a psycho bitch like that crazy Ginny Weasley…

"I accidentally made her spill cocoa on it, so regretfully I have to replace it," Pansy replied, cheeks flushed with shame.

Hermione thoughtfully studied the sweater for a minute, and then turned her beautiful smile upon the younger Slytherin. "I believe I have the exact same sweater! It doesn't look as fabulous on me as it does Ginny, however. Why don't you give it to me, and she won't know the difference…"

Pansy's black eyebrows nearly shot into her hairline, pretty mouth open in a circular shape. "You'd really do that, for _me_? You're so kind, Hermione Granger!"

Hermione smiled gently, replying, "Oh, it's no heroic deed, us Slytherins have to protect one another! And you're more than welcome to call me Hermione, Miss…?"

"Pansy Malfoy, I'm charmed!" Pansy replied gaily, thrusting out her right hand in an eager manner.

Hermione's perfect smile faltered slightly at her last name, but slipped back into place at the speed of light. "Malfoy? Your brother wouldn't happen to be…Draco, would he?"

"Unfortunately," Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes at the putz of a sibling she had to put up with on a daily basis, "He's a claud, but we're related. Mom says I can't disown him in public."

Hermione let out a small giggle, nearly dropping the sweater. "Oh, why don't I just give the sweater to your brother? Then you can return it to Ginny without raising a hint of suspicion!"

A sly smile slipped onto Pansy's face, the gears grinding in her brain evident by the shining of her bright blue eyes. "Why, of course! Thanks so much, again. I'll forever be in your debt!"

Hermione waved away her silliness, tucking the ruined garment into her shoulder bag and heading once again towards the entrance. "Nice to meet you, Pansy! I'm sure we'll speak again soon!"

Pansy smiled genuinely until Hermione was out of her sight, then snatched her pocket mirror at lightning speed, ready to send a message. Wait until Isadora heard that she talked to _Hermione Granger_, the It-Girl of Hogwarts School!

* * *

A few days later found Hermione sitting in the library, busy at work on a research project that she was completing for Professor Vector. It was indeed early in the year, but despite her previous reputation for skiving on her studies, Hermione actually was a rather intelligent girl behind the enchanting looks that drove the blokes positively bonkers. All the partying she'd done in fourth year had gotten her nowhere…to the point that she'd had to flee London for the balmy comforts of Marseille, where no one even knew her name...

Thinking of the past was excruciating, so Hermione was trying to keep with her studies, devoted to making this year the best one yet. Homework had the tendency to be boring, however, so her mind often drifted from the arithmetic sequences on the page and onto the drama that a socialite was chained to. It'd been a few days since she'd taken the ruined sweater off Pansy Malfoy's hands, and planned to slip it to the girl on Monday.

Hermione laughed softly to herself. Ginny certainly could be a bitch…It was her favorite hobby to select one girl a year to torment, deface, and successfully eliminate from the selective ring of Hogwarts' beauties. Hermione usually stood to the side while Ginny unleashed her fury, rolling her eyes and keeping silent, but Pansy Malfoy seemed to be a nice enough girl, expressing genuine concern over the garment Ginny would most likely never wear again.

_Hmm…_ Hermione mused, brushing the feathers of her quill against her cheekbone, an ornate chain of flowers making their way onto the margin of her parchment, _Her brother is a sweetheart as well…Not to mention downright adorable!_

She was surprised to find her cheeks heating up, a physical reaction she had not experienced in quite some time. Could she possibly be _infatuated_ with Draco Malfoy, the boy she had never noticed until this year, a Ravenclaw intellectual? Hermione giggled, shaking the ridiculous thought out of her head as her deep brown curls swayed from side to side. She was just being silly: she barely knew him, and he probably wasn't interested in a Slytherin girl with a dubious reputation anyhow…

Blaise slid into the adjacent chair so sneakily, Hermione nearly screamed when he snapped his fingers to get her attention. She met his deep dark gaze, hazel eyes shining with mischievous intention, and scowled.

"Blaise Zabini, you arse! You startled me!"

Blaise just grinned back toothily, leaning back in the armchair like he owned the library—which now that Hermione thought about it, his family might have donated the funds for all the books…

"Just checking in on my delicious vixen…Imagine how surprised I was to find her…studying. So unlike you, my dear," he replied smoothly, eyebrow shifting into its favorite position.

Hermione rolled her eyes and drew her attention back to _Numerology and Gramatica_, which was describing a fascinating relationship between prime numbers. It wasn't that she didn't find Blaise Zabini attractive— She'd be a fool not to, his strikingly beautiful African mother and charming Italian father creating the most exotically handsome young man she had yet to come across. But his conceited douchebaggery left her completely turned off, seeing as there was such thing as too much self-love.

Blaise wasn't taking her brush-off well; In fact, Hermione soon found warm breath cascading across her collarbone, one warm hand finding its home on her delicate shoulder.

"You're so sexy, Hermione Granger", he growled into her ear as his other arm wound its way around the curve of her waist, slowly moving upwards. Hermione stiffened, and tried to remove his grip, only resulting in the taller boy picking her up completely out of her armchair.

"Fuck, Blaise, leave me alone…" Hermione replied angrily as Blaise spun her around, their faces dangerously close, the gold specks in his eyes dancing merrily.

"Why so resistant, Hermione?" he asked softly, one hand moving southward to squeeze her arse, resulting in a squeak from the effected party, "You may not want me…But I certainly want you."

His lips descended upon hers in a bruising kiss, shoving the brunette against the nearest bookshelf, one arm holding her in place, the other hand toying around the swell of her breasts. Hermione made a valiant effort to struggle, but seeing as Blaise's physique was hardened with layers of muscle, she merely let him kiss her, feeling like her saliva level was being rapidly depleted.

The sound of a few giggling girls echoed in the library, causing Blaise to drop his assault, resting his lips against her collarbone as he tried to catch his breath.

"Fucking Hogwarts…Can't get a moment's peace anywhere. Come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend? We could get a room…"

A warning sign flashed off in Hermione's head, and she weaseled out from under Blaise, quickly collecting her things and putting them in her shoulder bag. Hogwarts had strictly scheduled Hogsmeade visits, but the rules had certainly never stopped Slytherin House, seeing as their gang had been sneaking out of school since second year. Letting Blaise kiss her so that he could satiate his libido was one thing, but the thought of having sex with him gave her a sudden case of nausea.

"Oh Blaise, I'm so sorry," Hermione gushed, as Blaise stared her down with a predatory gaze, "It's just, I already have a date to Hogsmeade this weekend…It's real sweet of you to ask, though!"

Her hopes that her saccharine tone would fool him fell flat with his quick reply. "Oh really….And who would your date be? Flint? Pucey? That Corner bloke?"

He was moving steadily towards her once again, and Hermione racked her brain for a somewhat-decent boy that she would be willing to go out with to get Blaise off her case. Just then, she saw a flash of platinum blond heading towards the Herbology shelves, which was just beyond her study section.

"It's Draco Malfoy!" she blurted out, skipping to take the surprised young man's arm in hers and pulling him over to Blaise, "He invited me two days ago, we're going to get some nice tea, and then—"

"—We're going to have passionate sex on my father's yacht," Draco interrupted, barely disguising his grin, "Several times. Would you like me to tell you all about it when we get back?"

Blaise's eyes drifted from Draco to Hermione, his broad jaw hardening in obvious dislike. Hermione took Draco's hand in hers and smiled merrily, shooting an equally cheerful grin at the furious Zabini heir.

"I see your standards have fallen quite low, Miss Granger," Blaise sneered, thrusting his hands in his pockets and preparing to leave, "Seems that you fucked enough Frenchmen to lose sight of what a _real man_ is." His eyes flicked over Draco's uniform, which was dirty and shabby next to the freshly pressed outfit that Blaise had his house-elves clean daily. "We're not done here, Granger," Blaise shot as he strolled languidly away, "You'll be back, begging me to fuck you!"

Draco scowled at the place Blaise had just been, unaware of Hermione's touch in his shock over such vulgar language being used in front of a young woman.

"What an arsehole! I'm so sorry you have to put up with that git, Hermione!" he exclaimed, slowly noticing their entwined fingers, resulting in a deep blush to settle high on his cheekbones. He gently released her, his hand sinking deep into his disheveled blond locks. "Sorry…"

"It's no problem!" Hermione replied in astonishment at his considerate behavior, "He's always such a douche, I'm used to it. Thank you so much for playing along with my story, I don't know what I would have done…"

Draco smiled sheepishly, the effect striking Hermione as absolutely adorable, and he started to move again towards the Herbology section. "It was nice seeing you again…" he trailed off shyly, never feeling more awkward than he had in this moment.

"So, when are you going to pick me up tomorrow?" Hermione chirped at his retreating figure, causing the blond to spin around in complete shock.

"You…You...You're serious?" he asked, flabbergasted, mouth falling open slightly, "You'd actually go out with some guy you don't even know?"

Hermione winked at him, placing the sturdy brown shoulderbag in position, flattening down her uniform plaid skirt. "You can't be any worse than the guys I already know! See you at 7, then?"

Draco just nodded dumbly, watching the beautiful brunette sashay out of sight, his lanky frame positively frozen in shock. He had just scored a date with _Hermione Granger_, Slytherin Princess and It Girl!

_Ohhhhhh Merlin!_


	4. Hold me, Thrill me, Kiss me, Kill me

**Guess whom all of this belongs to, and who gets all the rights and royalties? Certainly not me!**

**Author's Note: ** Some of Blaise's observations… aren't very nice, and therefore crude terms may be used in his section. You have been warned.

* * *

Chapter 4: Hold me, Thrill me, Kiss me, Kill Me

It was Friday afternoon in Hogsmeade, and Madam Lisbon sat at her register, thumbing through a Wizarding Vogue. Business was slow during the week, seeing as her best customers were bogged down by such silliness as _school_. Oh, Eleanor Lisbon had done her time up at the castle, running after boys and skiving off schoolwork like any good Slytherin, but to hear the gossip through the teenagers instead of living through it herself, gave her the utmost pleasure. The prim blonde heard the familiar tinkle of a bell, and the high, excited voices native only to young adolescent females.

Eleanor perked up, tossing the magazine aside and smoothing down her ice-blue robes, eager to make a good impression on her customers. A spindly redhead shuffled through the racks disinterestedly, the two girls behind her enthusiastically picking up everything she put her hands on, dressed in matching V-necked jumpers and pencil skirts. A curly-haired brunette giggled amusedly at the scene, her attention focused on formal attire, currently holding a cerulean halter dress in one hand, a white Kate Spade in the other.

"May I help you, Miss?" Eleanor asked, swooping upon the leggy beauty like a ravenous vulture, her eyes bright with anticipation.

Hermione looked at the saleslady with a hint of irritation, but nodded. "Actually, I have a date tonight, and I'd like to find something special. Perhaps in light, tropical tones, a last hurrah for summer?"

While the blonde rushed around looking for suitable gowns, Ginny stalked over to where Hermione stood, Lavender and Parvati hot on her heels.

"You aren't _seriously _going out with him, are you?" Ginny hissed, hand slipping into its favorite position on her hip. She was comfortable with the fact that she received anything she wanted, and if Ginny Weasley could avoid her best friend from dating a loser, she'd have to play hardball.

"Who, Draco?" Hermione chirped, holding up one of the dresses Eleanor handed her before giving it back dismissively. "I'm actually quite looking forward to it."

Lavender and Parvati began to whisper excitedly, grasping their hand mirrors like their lives depended on it. Ginny was not swayed in the slightest, her gaze turning dagger sharp at the fact that Hermione was blowing her off over a very important manner.

"But, he's like… eww! He wears corduroys, Hermione; we decided in third year that we would never date a boy who wore corduroy! And he has reading glasses! Hello, ever heard of contacts, or maybe he simply can't afford them, eh?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny's pathetic protest, and shot back a dazzling smile. "Oh Gin, it's only dinner! Besides, Draco seems like a perfect gentleman! When was the last time I dated someone without a Floo addiction?"

Ginny had to nod at that last comment, seeing as Hermione's track record was less than stellar, a long list of man-whores, alcoholics and douchebags. While she was glad that Hermione didn't decide to take Blaise Zabini (that tosser!) up on his offer, did she have to settle for a boy at the bottom of the social food chain?

"But what about Adrian Pucey?" Ginny retorted, as Hermione held up two identical Oscar la Prentas, debating on whether she looked better in emerald green or royal blue. "He's bloody gorg, plus his father owns Nimbus Brooms! And he's Norwegian, I know how much you love those exotic boys!"

Ginny's eyebrow waggling and urging was to no avail, for Hermione ignored her best friend, taking the two gowns into the dressing room.

"Fine," Ginny huffed, sinking into a velvet armchair, closely followed by Lavender and Parvati, who had to share seating. The redhead played with the platinum charms on her Dooney & Bourke bracelet she'd received for her sixteenth birthday, wishing Hermione would hurry up so she could get back to the Dungeons and finish planning her party while silly Granger fooled around with anemic-boy Malfoy. Every year, Slytherin House held a "First Weekend back at Hogwarts" bash, and Ginny had yet to finish the invitations in time to hand them out at Saturday brunch. She loved the power that came with being an It-Girl, the ability to have only the best of the best at her parties. Only her friends were allowed to get drunk off their rockers at Ginny's shindig: if that stalker Ernie Macmillan even showed his face, she'd have Crabbe and Goyle throw him out faster than you could say "Creeper".

"What do you think?" Hermione asked excitedly, sweeping out of the dressing room, an absolute vision in royal blue. She did a little spin as Parvati and Lavender showered their praises, Ginny's disgruntled expression turning into a satisfied smile. Hermione's dress was made of frothy, satiny material in a Grecian style, intricate braiding lacing around the small curve underneath her full breasts and single supporting strap. The shade of blue did wonders for Hermione's coloring, the rich chocolate of her hair and the light dusting of her tan appearing deeper with the contrast.

"You're an absolute treasure, doll!" Ginny exclaimed, giving her best friend a hug as the two of them gazed appreciatively at Hermione in the mirror. "Malfoy does not deserve you, but if you insist on going out with him, he'll be positively Avada'd!"

Hermione giggled and brought the redhead back into her embrace. "You really like it? I'm sooooo nervous, I haven't been this anxious for a date since…"

"Terry Boot?" Ginny suggested, causing all four of the girls to gag.

"I can't believe you dated him, Hermione!" Lavender squealed, her delicate face twisted up in disgust.

"Aww, but he really was sweet! Honestly, don't you think he's cute?"

"Maybe behind the zits and the thick-framed spectacles, Granger," Ginny shot back, pushing Hermione back into the dressing room with a look of amusement on her face. "Now hurry up and purchase the thing! I have invitations to make!"

* * *

In a flurry of cashmere and leather, the girls left Madame Mystique's, the cacophony of their lighthearted laughter drawing more than one appreciative look from an adolescent male. The quartet was planning to stop by Honeydukes to pick up the no-calorie Sugar Wands they adored, but Ginny remembered something very important while passing by Flourish and Blotts.

"I just remembered, I'm out of ink. Want to pop in for a sec, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head, taking a seat on the bench nearby. "I've already spent enough money for one day. You girls go ahead!"

Lavender and Parvati exchanged a look and a shrug, following the lovely redhead into the shop. Finally alone, Hermione settled back against the bench, dress in lap, content to just people-watch the assortment of crazies that meandered through Hogsmeade. A giddy fluttering was in her heart, her mind dizzy with anticipation for her date with Draco, his carefree demeanor so pleasant in her memories. She'd tried casually dating in Marseille, but she missed the down-to-earth personalities of her Hogwarts boys… it felt so good to be home.

Out of the corner of her eye, a pair of giggling teenage girls bounded out of The Three Broomsticks, the blonde hiccupping as if she'd had too much Butterbeer. The one Hermione recognized as Pansy Malfoy did a little twirl in the street, her small Honeydukes bag flapping about. Her long black hair was curled, a retro feathered hairpiece attached to the left side of her head. The girls headed in Hermione's direction, arms linked and incoherent babbling sprouting continuously from their lips, obviously planning on visiting Zonko's.

Hermione smiled, for Pansy reminded her of herself at that very age. That illustrious year, back when things were a little less complicated, drugs and wild partying not playing a role in the social scene quite yet. The raven-haired beauty sat down to Hermione, a large grin on her face, her companion looking quite barmy in astonishment.

"Hi Hermione!" Pansy squeaked, trying to inconspicuously rub a bit of dirt from her knock-off Jimmy Choos. "What have you been up to?"

Hermione smiled kindly. "I'm just waiting for friends to finish shopping. I bought a lovely dress today, would you like to see it?"

The two younger girls exchanged an excited look, then nodded eagerly. Hermione unzipped part of the garment bag so the two could comment on the gown's texture and color.

"It's sooooooo gorgeous," Isadora cooed, rubbing the satin material appreciatively. "Is it for the big Slytherin bash tomorrow night?"

"Oh no, this frock is much too posh," Hermione replied. "It's for a date I have tonight at Madam Puddifoot's. Can I expect you two to make an appearance at the soiree tomorrow, however?"

The two girls giggled nervously, causing Hermione to raise an eyebrow. "Oh no," Pansy explained apologetically, "We haven't been invited. We don't exactly have older friends…"

Hermione smiled at their sheer adorableness, her small white teeth vibrant against the crimson of her lips. "Well, I'm your friend, am I not? I insist you two come tomorrow night, we need some new blood to lighten things up! Besides, Pansy, it'd be a perfect opportunity to return the cardigan to Ginny."

Pansy's eyes lit up, and the two girls began excitedly giggling for perhaps the ninth time that day. "Oh my gods, are you serious?! Thank you so much, Hermione!"

Isadora began to wail. "But I have absolutely nothing to wear! Come on, Pansy, we must go shopping and find something suitable!"

Pansy's grin faltered for a second, but being the master of deception, quickly covered her disdain. "Wicked! Thanks again, Hermione, and good luck with your date! We'll see you tomorrow, yes?" The two girls ran off, chattering, the empty space soon occupied by the bodies of Ginny, Lavender and Parvati. Ginny had a aristocratically raised eyebrow, mouth grotesquely open and hand on hip, as she watched the fourth-years scamper off towards Madam Mystique's.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny said softly, "Hermione, _please_ don't tell me you just invited that little twat Pansy Malfoy to our party?!"

Hermione's brow furrowed, and she turned to her best friend, not willing to back down against the redhead's icy glare. "Oh Ginny, Pansy really is a lovely girl, and I invited them as guests. Just ignore the dear. Now, come and accompany me to the dormitory! I need to get ready for my date!!!"

This excited squeal made Pansy stop in her tracks, her calculating mind fitting the pieces into place, pushing all thoughts of excruciating window-shopping from her brain. "Oh my gods, Isadora," she shrieked, "My brother is fucking popular!"

* * *

Draco stared back at his reflection in the mirror, which was trying to convince him to comb his hair to the right. The blond was tense with nervousness, licking his lips and blowing into his hand at a weak attempt of checking breath smelliness, pacing back and forth in the sixth-year boys' dormitory. Theo was on his way from the Ravenclaw Common Room, and decided to check up on his best mate.

"Daaaaaaaaamn!" Theo whistled, circling around Draco's lanky frame. "Always thought the pinstripes looked wonky, but you certainly do them justice!"

Along with the formal suit that he'd borrowed from Theo, Theo offered Draco his arsenal of "Lady-snaring techniques", which resulted in copious amounts of cologne and a shoeshine from a first-year. Asteria had also _insisted_ that Draco get Hermione a flower for the occasion, saying that every young lady deserved a bit of affection, even if the orchid came with a horrible two Galleon price tag. She was helpful as Theo had been, commenting on how long and lovely his eyelashes were, and the silkiness of his hair, before Draco promptly kicked her out of the dorm. Leave it to his geeky friends to be no help whatsoever when it came to taking _Hermione Granger_ out on a date.

Draco knew he was relatively attractive, but the last date he'd been on was in third year, and needless to say, it had ended in tears and a memory of being one of the most humiliating times of his short life. _This must go well, This must go well,_ Draco ordered himself, leaving tread marks in the carpet underneath while Theo lounged on the bed, watching the blond amusedly. Draco shot the brunet a glare, running his hands through his hair to make an even bigger mess. Asteria threw open the door cheerfully, her long braid nearly hitting Theo in the face as she swept Draco into an excited hug.

"Ohmygoodness, Draco, just two minutes until the big date!" she squealed, causing the color to drain from Draco's already pale features.

"It's almost seven? Asteria, I'm supposed to be all the way down in the Dungeons by now!" The blond started to shuffle erratically around the room, finding his wand and moneybag lying carelessly across his bureau, Theo chuckling at his mate's dismay. Asteria thrust the orchid into his arms and he was off, passing through the Ravenclaw common like a silver-blond whirlwind.

Sitting in an armchair in the corner, Neville Granger raised an eyebrow over the commotion, but turned back to his textbook, quietly smiling to himself.

* * *

Draco took a deep breath, using his napkin to absorb some of the sweat droplets on his forehead. Things were going relatively well, seeing as he hadn't scared Hermione away with any of his lame attempts at cracking a joke. Although, if she spent five more minutes in the powder room, Draco thought that perhaps the brunette _had_ jumped ship.

Their table was at the back of Madam Puddifoot's, primarily because of the fact that Draco was horribly mortified to be seen there. Theo had been taking the Mickey out of him all day, and Asteria's squeaky baby voice upon finding out drove Draco positively bonkers. In fact, all of Ravenclaw had found it absolutely hilarious, that one of their own would _dare_ to set foot in such a sappy, stereotypical institution.

"If they only knew to what lengths I'd go to make this girl happy," Draco grumbled to himself, his expression lightening considerably when his date came into sight. Her outfit had taken his breath away at first glance, and he couldn't keep his eyes off her all night. She was _absolutely fucking gorgeous_, her cheerful laugh and attentiveness completing a very perfect package.

"Did you get bored?" Hermione teased, setting her purse down, which she'd affectionately pinned the orchid to. "I apologize, the line for the little witches' room was a kilometer long!"

"Can't you see my gray hairs? And to think, I could have been married in the time it took for you to get back!" Draco shot back, winking.

"Oh, now that would be shame," Hermione replied suggestively, shooting him a grin. "Perhaps I should have taken Blaise up on that offer to get stoned in the restroom?"

The two laughed heartily, the motherly waitress whisking by to take their orders. To Draco's dismay, the couple in the booth nearby began to snog heartily, causing Draco's cushion to bounce the blond up and down.

Hermione stifled a giggle, but did her best to keep the conversation going. Draco had been wonderfully charming so far, and she didn't want to go back to the dorm for a very long time whilst in his company. "So, what do you do in your free time?" she asked, taking a delicate sip of her gillywater.

Draco's face flushed, for his extra-curricular repertoire was less-than-impressive. "Gah… Well, I do a lot of reading. And my mother has this little garden; I tend that when I'm home for the holiday. Pester my baby sister, seeing as it's so easy…"

Hermione smiled. "Oh yes, I rather adore your sister. She seems like such a sweetheart, always willing to help others…"

Draco wanted to roll his eyes at that statement, knowing that Pansy didn't usually do favors without expecting something in return. Before he could respond, their conversation was interrupted by a small, mousy brunette that Draco recognized as fellow Ravenclaw Lisa Turpin.

"Oh Merlin! Hermione, you look sooooo fab! Did you get that dress at Madam Mystique's?" she squeaked, as the two friends exchanged an air kiss and an enthusiastic hug.

"I did, actually! Thank you so much for the compliment! Have you met my date, Draco Malfoy?" Hermione rested a palm on Draco's shoulder, her skin feeling cool through the fabric of his jacket.

The look on Lisa's face was nothing short of hilarious, eyelashes fluttering at hummingbird speed. She did a double take, then stuck out her hand in greeting, looking quite dazed.

"Why hello again, Draco. Didn't expect to see you here…"

Draco gave a polite nod, resisting the urge to slap himself silly over the delicious sensation Hermione was radiating onto his shoulder. The two girls exchanged pleasantries for a while, Lisa eventually returning to her own table. Unfortunately for Draco and Hermione, disaster struck! The energetic couple that had been bouncing Draco in all directions for fifteen minutes decided to take things to the next level, a sharp "Fuck me!" uttered in a throaty female growl. Draco, shocked, proceeded to spit out his Butterbeer, but not before a startled Hermione tripped over her heels, promptly seating herself in the blond's lap.

There was silence for a few minutes, in which the embarrassment sunk in, identical red flushes on their faces. Draco swallowed nervously, humiliated that he had just spat Butterbeer all over his date's perfectly styled coiffure. Never mind that they were in an intimate position, Hermione seated upon his thighs, once arm clinging to his neck. Before the blond could offer an apology, Hermione beat him to the quick.

"I've been on many a date, but I daresay nothing _that_ exciting has ever happened!" She turned and looked at Draco, her brown eyes shimmering with mirth.

Draco's back released its tension, the redness across his pale features beginning to evaporate into nothingness. As the two laughed together, he began to appreciate the feel of skin-on-skin, Hermione's tiny frame tucked into his lap. Sucking up all the courage he could muster, Draco leaned in closely, his lips just a few inches from her ear, the soft strands of her hair gliding across his cheekbone.

"I knew you wanted me," he said softly and slowly, pulling away to shoot the brunette a smirk. Hermione's face went through a range of emotions, from confusion to surprise to naughtiness. She returned to her feet, a pout on her face and a hand on her hip, causing Draco's grin to expand even wider.

"In all my years!!!!!" Hermione squealed, causing Draco to finally erupt in laughter, drowning out the sound of her voice. "How inappropriate, pulling such a stunt! You're as bad as Blaise, I swear!"

Draco raised an eyebrow, covering his stomach in pantomimed pain. "Ouch, witch, that was a low blow…"

The brunette simply smiled radiantly, settling herself on the other side of the table, sweeping her sticky hair up and out of her face. "You know what, Draco Malfoy? I think I rather like you."

Draco's smile soon matched her own, the two gazing at one another until their food arrived, the two chatting animatedly as the hours passed in each other's company. _Gotta give it to Madam Puddifoot,_ Draco thought, as Hermione let out another delighted bout of laughter, _She certainly knows how to work her magic_.

* * *

Blaise strolled through the corridor like a regular celebrity, a sneer on his face and an obscene amount of pomade in his hair. He could hear the booming music through the heavy stone walls, bringing a smile to his face. Stopping just before the Slytherin entrance, he popped in a few Teeth-cleaning Breath Bugs, pulling out his purple Galleon to check and see if he had any new messages. Recognizing a particular name, Blaise read the new Gossip Girl bulletin, teeth clenched.

_The school year may have just begun, but it seems that Marseille-reject H is eager to make a new conquest. Sources spotted the pair at Chez Puddifoot, where Nerdyboy couldn't keep that stupid grin off his face. I wonder how her fellow Slytherins will take the news while partying at tonight's exclusive bash…_

_Of course you love me._

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Witch_

Blaise shoved the coin back into his pocket, glaring at the spot like it was a particularly nasty rodent. "Fucking bitch," he muttered, knocking exceedingly hard on the polished walnut door, a small, timid-looking boy poking his head out within seconds.

"Password?" the second year squeaked, looking up nervously at the much taller young man, his aristocratic features menacing.

Blaise rolled his eyes, brushing a bit of dust off his sleeve. "Toil 'n Trouble. Now move."

The boy scrambled quickly behind the door, letting Blaise pass into the dark heated room. The sight of magically levitating candles, in every color of the rainbow, gyrating bodies, and puffs of smoke greeted his eyes, as Blaise slyly strolled over to his favourite posse. Ginny and Harry were dancing next to the stage, where some famous Wizarding band was blasting their guitars. Harry's hands were on the redhead's hips as the two moved together slowly and seductively, Ginny's lips attached to her boyfriend's neck. The two were just another pretty pair in the sea of dancers, the mass orgy set to music that was Slytherin's claim to fame. Hermione sat on a leather couch a few feet away, surrounded by the likes of Lavender, Parvati, and Daphne Greengrass, whose mouths were moving like their lives depended on it.

Blaise sat on the couch's arm, having rejected several suggestive looks from underclassmen.

"Hello… ladies," he spoke in his slow, sultry drawl, causing the group on the couch to cease their chattering. Lavender immediately turned in the opposite direction, having been avoiding Blaise ever since he'd bedded and dumped her at the beginning of the summer. Parvati and Daphne gave sexy smiles, but Hermione rolled her eyes, stifling a giggle with her small hand.

Blaise growled at the sight, stalking over to the brunette and wrenching her up by her wrist. "Listen to me, _whore_. Stop pretending you don't want me, for I've already marked your luscious ass as mine. Malfoy can suck my—"

"—What's going on here?" came the shrill voice of a suspicious Ginny Weasley, her boyfriend hot on her heels. "Blaise, will you leave Hermione the fuck alone?"

Blaise dropped Hermione's wrist as if he'd been burned, holding up his hands in defense. "We were simply having a pleasant conversation, weren't we, Hermione?" The venomous glare that Blaise shot the offended brunette was one that could scald ice water.

Hermione swallowed her anger, forcing a pleasant smile onto her features. The overwhelming amount of happiness she'd been savoring since the previous night faltered with the injustice of dealing with such a psychopath. She leaned close to Blaise, not willing to let him have the last word.

"Don't think I'm going to tolerate this much longer," she spat, low and dangerous. Disgusted by his actions, Hermione spun on her heel and headed towards the loos, leaving a very confused group of teenagers in her wake. Spurred by her fiery temper, Ginny came close to slapping Blaise across the face, but was halted by Harry's steady hand.

"Just drop it, Gin. I'm going after Hermione, you keep the party going." The lanky young man headed off in Hermione's direction, Blaise recovering his trademark smirk. Ginny's eyes looked heavenward, completely exasperated. Fed up with his actions, the redhead snapped her fingers, the group of Slytherin princesses following behind, Blaise left alone on the dance floor.

Having been publicly humiliated by Hermione Granger, Blaise's anger intensified into fiery, unadulterated fury. Unlike most young men in his age category, Blaise did not channel his feelings into physical or verbal violence. Instead, he searched the dance floor for an easy conquest, something that he could fuck and fuck and fuck until the pain dissipated from his perfectly sculpted body.

Located close to the bar was a pair of young girls, apparently lost in their own immature world, as they were dancing a silly jig and whooping like a flock of Fwoopers. The blond was non-descript save for her silly fringe, but the raven-haired little beauty had a face sculpted on cherubs, slim body encased in a sexy minidress, and rather shapely legs. Blaise felt his lips curl into a sneer, as he ordered a Firewhisky from Morag McDougal, the weird dykey girl who was serving as the bartender for the night. Drink in hand, the tall dark wizard slid over to the girls, putting on his most charming smile.

"My my, aren't we pretty things?" said smoothly, causing two sets of astonished eyes to become fixated on his model face. The object of his seduction simply stared, mouth open most unladylike, but the blonde saved the day by chattering on annoyingly.

"I'm Isadora, and this is Pansy. Have you ever been to one of these before? I think this party is quite nice!"

Blaise turned to Isadora, a half-smile on his features. "Listen, Doll, I'm going to be frank. I'm interested in talking to your friend Pansy here, do you mind if I whisk her away for a moment?"

The two girls exchanged a look, and then Pansy opened her delicate mouth. "Well, of course she doesn't. Shall we?" Blaise kissed her hand, causing the young girl to erupt in giggles as he led her in the opposite direction. Isadora nervously watched her best friend leave with the strange older boy, a painful knot of fear in her stomach. She quickly pulled out her pocket mirror, sending a message to the only older student she knew: Draco.

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat on the floor outside the loos, backs propped up against the wall as they conversed about Hermione's perplexing problem.

"Thanks for talking about it with me, Harry," Hermione said, a shy smile on her face. "I mean, I know he's your best mate, but I think he's getting to the point of sexual harassment, which terrifies me."

"I agree," Harry replied seriously, his face somber. "I mean, I always knew that Blaise was a bit of a bloody wanker, but lately, he's gone a bit barmy. I think it might have to do with his father."

Hermione nodded, the breeze from a closing door rustling her curls. "I still think of Blaise as a friend, we've all been together since we were in nappies. Hopefully, he gets the help that he needs."

"Hey, listen," Harry began, his tone shifting to a slightly more anxious timbre. "I wanted to talk about _that night_. I know that Ginny doesn't know that it happened, and I certainly haven't told Blaise, but I was wondering if possibly, it meant something to you?"

Hermione stared back at Harry in shock, brown eyes wide. Oh Merlin, of all things to talk about, Harry _had_ to choose the topic of Bill and Fleur's wedding! Harry couldn't honestly mean…

"Harry," Hermione responded cautiously, "When I left London, it was for a variety of things. I definitely regret what happened that night, and I certainly didn't come back home to start a relationship with you!"

It was Harry's turn to be dumbfounded, getting up on his feet and pacing in small circles in front of Hermione. "You mean to tell me," Harry began softly, his voice gradually decreasing in volume. "That we had sex, and it means NOTHING to you?!"

Before Hermione could respond to Harry's accusation, a loud squeak interrupted their private conversation, Harry's arms rising in shock. Hermione's head snapped to the corner, lightning fast, catching a glimpse of the face of Pansy Malfoy before the younger girl ran quickly away.

* * *

Pansy Malfoy was in a bit of a panic. She'd figured that the sexy Blaise Zabini character would take her into a corner, they'd snog a little, and then she'd be back to Isadora. However, they had already gotten past French kissing, and Blaise's hands were busy at work unclasping her bra, causing the bile in Pansy's throat to accumulate. Things were moving much too fast, this is not what she intended to happen!

Thinking quick on her feet, Pansy giggled into Blaise's ear. "Hey sexy boy, why don't we play a game? You give me a fifteen second start, and then I'll hide, and you can come find me!"

Pansy's assumption that Blaise was too aroused to think clearly proved correct, for all she got in response was a nod from the lusty Slytherin. Pansy speedily disentangled herself, taking herself as far away from Blaise Zabini that her legs could possibly allow. She turned a corner, feeling happy that she was acquainted with the boys' side of the Slytherin dormitory. Remembering the shortcut, Pansy took a left, only to find herself in the middle of a soap opera between the two unlikeliest of characters…

"…mean to tell me," the über-popular Gryffindor Golden boy Harry Potter shouted, "That we had sex, and it means NOTHING to you?!"

The fact that Hermione Granger, and not Ginny Weasley, was sitting on the floor listening to Harry's tantrum, set off alarm bells in Pansy's head. She gasped, then realized her immense mistake, for she was on the run yet again, three older students hot on her heels.

Pansy finally made it to the dance floor, where festivities were still going strong, it being only midnight. The raven-haired girl quickly wove through the crowd, on the lookout for her best friend. She spotted the familiar blond head and let out an excited squeal, only to be shocked to find Isadora and _Draco_ patiently waiting for her.

"Draco?!" Pansy shrieked. "What the hell are you doing here, at a Slytherin party?"

Draco sighed, used to playing the "Evil big brother" role. "Dora messaged me and said that you might be in a spot of trouble. What's all this running about?"

Pansy was about to answer with a biting retort, but was stopped by the look of surprise she saw in her older brother's eyes. "What's—"

Spinning around, Pansy found herself face-to-face with not only an enraged Blaise Zabini, but also a panicky-looking Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Seeing as she was the only one not dumbfounded by the scene, Isadora summed up the entire situation with a proper curse: "Awwww, shit."

To be continued…


End file.
